


Letting Your Fist Do Your Flirting

by araniladin



Category: Final Fantasy VII, RWBY
Genre: Brawlers, Drinking away the pain, F/F, Fighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araniladin/pseuds/araniladin
Summary: Yang Xiao Long just wanted a damn drink, but Tifa Lockhart is done with her bar being destroyed.
Relationships: Yang Xiao Long/Tifa Lockhart
Kudos: 10





	Letting Your Fist Do Your Flirting

7th Heaven was the kind of bar Yang could enjoy. Not too flashy, but not a dive bar. Good drinks, nothing to rot your gut, but nothing that made people talk about mouthfeel. It was just right.

Except for the barkeep.

Yang wanted to snap her neck.

“I’m cutting you off,” the barkeep said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Like fuck you are,” Yang said, slapping lin onto the bar. “I haven’t even gotten a single drink yet.”

Red eyes narrowed at Yang and the barkeep pushed the lin back at her. “And everytime I’ve served you a single drink, you’ve broken something.”

“I never started those fight, I just finished them,” Yang said, her own eyes flashing red. She leaned over the bar top. “That man yesterday started it, he shouldn’t have grabbed my ass.”

Uncrossing her arms, the barkeep placed her gloved hands on the bar top, across from Yang’s. The metal on the back of her gloves tinked against each other, vaguely threatening. “He shouldn’t have, but you didn’t have to break his head on my table. And Monday, those guys had just walked in.”

Sneering, Yang pressed down on the bar top, the dark wood groaning. “They were part of Taurus’ gang, they would have trashed this place.”

The barkeep poked her finger into Yang’s chest. “You trashed my place! I was about to take care of them, and suddenly I have a new window instead!”

“How? Asking them nicely?” Yang rolled her eyes. “You barely look like you can carry those kegs you serve, sweetheart.”

The barkeep blinked, pulling her hand back.

Yang smirked before finding herself bouncing off the wall and her chest hurting. She slid to the ground as her brain bounced around inside her skull.

At the bar, the barkeep let her hand fall.

“It’s not sweetheart, it’s Lockhart, Tifa Lockhart.” Tifa jumped over the bar and landed lightly on her feet. “Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

Grining, Yang stood. Slamming her fist together, she took a step forward. “Make me.”

Tifa swung, and Yang caught the blow on her arm. Her return punch met a similar fate.

As much as she didn’t want to admit, Tifa’s strength matched her own. 

Back and forth they went. Yang, wanting to keep the fight fun, chose not to use the full power of her Ember Celica. Something about Tifa’s fighting style clued Yang into her also holding back.

The smirk they shared as they tried to beat the snot out of each other scared the rest of the patrons in the bar. 

Soon, it was just the two of them. As much as Tifa yelled at Yang about wrecking her bar, she was just as destructive. The Yang-shaped hole she put in her floor would cost her a pretty penny to fix. The tables flew alongside the fists, some denting the wall, others embedding themselves in it.

“Is this really the best you got?” Yang taunted, dodging a kick.

Tifa deflected a fist to the face. “I’m just fighting at your level, blondie.” 

She kicked out, and Yang caught it on her gauntlets. The blow went through Yang and her hair caught fire as she channeled it into her aura. Tifa’s look of shock was received with a smirk from Yang.

“You are not even close to my level.” Yang’s fist flamed as she punched.

Dodging, Tifa made sure none actually hit her. Barely. Yang pushed herself harder, trying to catch Tifa. She was no longer holding back, much to the bar around her sagarin.

Tifa kept up, her blows matching Yang. The blows from Tifa hurt when Yang blocked, forcing her to duck and weave. The other woman seemed to almost dismiss Yang’s blow with barely a thought. A little nudge, forearm applied correctly and Yang’s punches flew wild.

Finding herself angry at not being able to hit the woman in front of her, Yang overcommitted. She stepped too far into a punch. A slight opening and Tifa took it.

Knuckles collided with breastbone. Yang took out the door on her way out.

She rolled into the street, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath.

Tifa stood in the doorframe, dusting off her hands. “Now, I don’t want you back here again.”

She stepped to the side, out of Yang’s view and slid down to the floor. Tifa’s arms ached, having taken as much as she received. Her bruises tomorrow were going to be massive. Not as bad as Yang, but only because she didn’t take a door to the spine. 

A small part of Tifa felt bad. The other woman was reckless, but her intentions were mostly good.

Looking around at the mess, she sighed and grabbed a broom and a bottle of whiskey. Good intentions or not, this mess was still a pain. Even if she caused some of it.

Out in the street, Yang tried to control her breathing. Her chest hurt as much as her back. 

She also couldn’t keep the grin off her face. That was a fight, and yeah she lost, but it was fun.

She moved herself to the other side of the street, sitting against a wall. Yang’s intent was not to spy, her whole body hurt and she still needed a drink. She watched Tifa clean up the mess they both made. 

The other woman drank her whiskey with the practiced ease of self medication. It made Yang sad. Mind you, she knew what that ease look liked as someone who did it herself.

Looking down at her robotic arm, Yang wondered if she should go back in and apologize. Offer to clean up half the mess she helped make. Maybe Tifa would share that bottle too. Not the best painkiller, but it would help.

Movement down the block caught Yang’s attention. A crowd of people were walking towards 7th Heaven. They all wore jackets with too many zippers, and wore bull mask, although Yang always thought they looked like goat mask to her. A few had bandages, and looked vaguely familiar. Members of Taursus' gang, White Bulls.

A bunch of nationalist assholes who picked fights with those they thought weaker. A bunch of cowards.

They swaggered into 7th Heaven and Yang crossed the street. She hid under one of windows, peeking in.

The gaggle of boys surrounded Tifa. Their leader, a tall blonde boy with too much grease in his hair, wrapped his arm around Tifa’s shoulder. “Question for you, beautiful. You happen to see a blonde girl around here?”

Tifa glanced towards the door, where she had seen Yang last. “Get a lot of blondes in here. Could you be more specific?” She tried to duck under his arm, but he kept it around her shoulders.

“A real bimbo, big tits, no brain, long hair,” he said, making the figure eight shape in the air with his hands.

Tifa shrugged, trying to make him remove his arm. “Nope, doesn’t sound familiar. Sorry.”

“Bitch was in here just the other day, ambushed some of my boys here.” He indicated the bandaged boys in the group.

“We get a lot of fights,” Tifa said, letting the messy room speak for itself. “They all start to blend together.”

The leader pouted before shrugging. His hand moved down to Tifa’s back. “Well, in that case, how about you get me and the boys a drink. And a little entertainment.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Tifa.

She tilted her face up at him, smiled, and slammed her fist between his legs. Yang heard something pop.

The leader went down rather silently, a low whistling sound as he failed to scream.

Tifa took advantage of surprise and punched the man next to her in the head. He dropped, but one of the other’s punched her in the face. She stayed up, but they surrounded her. 

Feet and fist flew, but with no space to dodge, Tifa could barely block. That she had just brawled with Yang also slowed her down. She still hurt from that.

Yang was in the middle of the brawl before she even thought it all the way through. She was not defending Tifa, she hated one sided fights. Plus these fuckers were nationalist,. Punching them was objectively a good thing.

The gang realized they were in trouble, and panicked. That allowed Yang to reach Tifa and put her back to the other woman’s.

“I thought I told you not to come back,” Tifa panted, lip bleeding and eye swelling.

“Do I look like someone who follows direction?” Yang tossed a smirk over her shoulder at a now smiling Tifa.

“Could you at least try to keep the destruction to a minimum?” Tifa turned back to face the circling boys. Some had drawn weapons, one even grabbing Tifa’s discarded whiskey bottle.

“Pssh, no.” Yang stepped forward and knocked one of the boys through the last remaining table.

Tifa laughed, punching another boy through the doorway. He bounced off the frame and slumped on the sidewalk.

The gang of boys froze, and for a moment, they all wanted to run.

“It’s just two girls, we can kick their ass,” the stupidest one of them said. The others nodded in agreement and came at Yang and Tifa.

It was never going to be a fair fight. Tifa and Yang, however, were tired, already worn out. They made mistakes. When the last of the White Bulls was tossed into the street, both of them bleed from numerous cuts and lacerations. Tifa’s swollen eye had started to turn purple, and Yang could feel her lip swelling.

“Uh, thank you,” Tifa said, turning to face Yang.

“Thank you for not selling me out,” Yang said, offering her bruised hand. “And the name’s Yang.”

Tifa smiled before wincing. She took the hand. “I’m still mad at you for wrecking my bar, but I think this makes up for it. Drink?”

Yang nodded. “Yes please.”

The bottles behind the bar all laid shattered, none having survived. Tifa frowned.

“I have a decent bottle of scotch at my hotel,” Yang said. “And the biggest bath you’ve seen. Always good to soak after a fight.”

Taking an appraisal look at the damage around them, Tifa nodded. “Okay, yeah. That sounds like the best idea. Lead the way.”

“What about the bar?” Yang said as she took Tifa’s hand.

“I texted a friend. He’ll be by with a door, and his boyfriend will end up cleaning up most of the mess.” Tifa pulled out her scroll. “I’ll just make sure to keep their favorite beer stocked. Come on, that bath sounds nice.”


End file.
